


friends in highly low places

by xslytherclawx



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Getting Together, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24581704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx
Summary: Anakin Skywalker has, all things considered, had a pretty shitty life. There was a time when he thought things might be better, but as it was, the best thing that had ever happened to him was when Watto sold him and his mother to Cliegg Lars, who then freed them.Which isn’t a high bar.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Buffy Summers
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35
Collections: Fandom 5K 2020, xslytherclawx’s events collection





	friends in highly low places

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jedibuttercup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedibuttercup/gifts).



> I thought a lot about how to make this happen between them without having Anakin cheat on Padmé (which imo, despite all his faults, I can't see him doing anyway) and this happened.  
> Canon divergent for both canons.
> 
> I hope you like it, Jedi Buttercup!

Anakin Skywalker has, all things considered, had a pretty shitty life. There was a time when he thought things might be better, but as it was, the best thing that had ever happened to him was when Watto sold him and his mother to Cliegg Lars.

Which isn’t a high bar.

Sure, Cliegg technically _freed_ them, but then he had the audacity to _marry_ Anakin’s mother, and that just could not stand.

He knows, really, his life could be much worse than being the adopted son of a moisture farmer on Tatooine.

(Especially since, okay, sure Cliegg really _doesn’t_ treat him any differently than he treats Owen. Even though Anakin is smarter. And Owen barely knows how to repair the vaporators.)

He just can’t help but wonder what his life would be like if he ever got off this terrible fucking planet. 

He could really make something of himself if he could just get to a core world. He knows he’s better than any other fucking mechanic or engineer in the world. His talents are wasted on Tatooine.

Even as Cliegg Lars’s stepson, he’s not able to become an actual pilot. There are still limitations in Tatooine. He’s still in the Outer Rim, on a planet controlled by Hutts.

He’s had a few adventures, sure. All of them short-lived. As it turns out, he doesn’t exactly have the cheerful desposition spice runners want, and Anakin’s not stupid enough to sign his life away on a contract for – well, anyone. He spent most of his life as slave, and he’s not going to sign away his freedom again.

It’s fucking ridiculous, obviously, how hard it is to get out of Tatooine for good, but the last time Anakin tried to do something about it – well, even he knows better than to make an enemy of the Hutts. Especially since Greedo works for Jabba now, and he always tries to pick a fight with Anakin.

Cliegg tells him about the time _he’d_ gotten out of Tatooine.

Anakin isn’t sure how this is supposed to make him feel _better._

He knows Cliegg isn’t the worst. He tries his best, and he really _does_ love Anakin’s mother.

But he’s still a moisture farmer on Tatooine. 

And if Cliegg _got off_ of Tatooine only to come back, what does that say about Anakin, who was born a slave?

* * *

It’s a perfectly normal day, but then it always is. Owen and Beru drag him to go out in Anchorhead.

“Going out” in Anchorhead doesn’t mean much except for sand. Anakin hates sand. If he could live anywhere, it’d be a Core World with no sand.

He wonders if Alderaan has sand. Or Coruscant.

Somehow he doesn’t think so.

The best way to live your life (and not get killed) on Tatooine is to mind you own business. That isn’t to say that if you don’t fuck with people that they won’t fuck with you too, just for yucks, but if you _do_ try to put your nose where it doesn’t belong, it never ends well.

Anakin can speak from personal experience.

He does, however, overhear someone (he’s not stupid enough to _look)_ mention something about a body.

It doesn’t really pique his interest. Tatooine can be a brutal place; people die and are killed all the time. It’s common enough that he’d really rather listen to Owen and Beru talk about their wedding planning.

Which is to say that it’s so common it’s _boring._

* * *

A few weeks later, he has business in Mos Eisley. He does every so often, and it’s usually a welcome relief from life on the moisture farm. Sometimes he goes to Mos Eisley to see about taking on some commission work to get away for a while.

This time, he’s just doing some repair work for a trade, when the old man he’s working for asks him if he’s heard about the killings.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Anakin says. “People are killed on Tatooine – _especially_ in Mos Eisley – every day.”

“These aren’t normal killings,” the man says. 

Anakin rolls his eyes and tunes the man out. 

He gets paid, and then he goes to the cantina. He grabs a seat next to Kitster. They drink and talk for a while, and he almost convinces himself that this will be a normal evening.

He sees the group enter the cantina out of the corner of his eye. They attract attention, but Anakin knows better than to stare. They’re clearly off-worlders, and they’re about to learn how things work on Tatooine. Anakin isn’t going to get involved.

A lot of off-worlders come through Tatooine. They even get people from Core Worlds, sometimes, though, like most people who come through Mos Eisley, they’re usually not on Tatooine with good intentions.

The people who come into this cantina usually have even worse intentions.

Anakin focuses on his drink. He’s not in the mood for any trouble, even though he is usually good in a fight.

One of the people – a blonde woman in pants and a black shirt – approaches him. “Hi, excuse me, you wouldn’t have happened to hear about any kind of… weird, unnatural deaths lately, would you?” she asks in Basic.

Anakin snorts. “This is Mos Eisley. There are weird, unnatural deaths here every day.”

The woman frowns. “Well, I mean – that’s not really the kinda thing I meant. I was more asking about, y’know, like… people being attacked by creatures and having their blood drained from their bodies. That kinda thing.”

“Haven’t heard anything,” Anakin says, which is technically a lie, but she doesn’t have to know that. There’s no reason for him to get involved in this.

He wonders if he can hang out at the port tomorrow and see if anyone will take him off-world for a while. If only his mother and Lars would agree to move somewhere better. If they settled in some Core World, he would never come back to Tatooine again.

“Oh,” the woman says. “Well, thanks anyway. And you should try not to be out alone after dark. Just in case.”

“I can handle myself,” Anakin says. He has a blaster, after all, and he never misses.

“Okay,” she says, and something about her tone rubs him the wrong way.

He clenches his jaw and doesn’t say anything else. It’s not worth it. She’s not worth it. Someone else will take care of her. It’s better that it’s their problem.

It’s better that it’s not his problem.

* * *

Two nights later, he’s helping Jira close down her market stand in Mos Espa when he sees the woman again. This time, he can clearly make out her friends: two other women, one with brown hair, and one with red hair. They all appear to be human.

He ignores them, or tries his best.

“I know you,” the blonde woman says. “I thought I told you to stay in at night.”

Anakin rolls his eyes. “You told me to not be alone after dark. And I’m not alone.” He motions to Jira. “Besides, I think I know Tatooine a little better than you do. I can protect myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but you need to get inside now.”

“I don’t need some off-worlder trying to tell me what to do,” Anakin snaps.

“I don’t think you understand –”

“No, I don’t think _you_ understand –”

“Um, Buffy?” one of the women says. “We have company.”

The woman pulls out what looks like a wooden stick. Anakin opens his mouth to tell her a blaster would do better work as a humanoid creature Anakin has _never_ seen before (and he’s seen a _lot_ of different species) rushes at the both of them.

She jabs it quickly in the heart (or where the heart would be in a human; for all Anakin knows, it’s the creature’s brain) with the stick, and it vanishes into a puff of dust.

What the fuck.

Anakin’s seen a _lot_ in his life, but he’s never seen anything like _that._

“What are you still doing here? You need to get inside. And _don’t_ invite anyone else in!”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but I don’t take orders from anyone, least of all off-worlders.”

“I’m serious,” the woman says. “This is a matter of your _safety._ I don’t need you to get all macho on me.”

“Macho?” Anakin repeats. 

“Buffy!” one of the other women shouts. “Incoming!”

“Go _home!”_ the woman – Buffy – says, and before Anakin can protest, she’s stabbed another creature in the chest with that wooden stick, and it, too, vanishes into thin air.

“Ani,” Jira says, and that’s it.

Fine.

But he’s not doing it because some bossy off-worlder told him to. He’s doing it because Jira, who has been his friend and helped him out since he was a child, is asking him to.

It has nothing to do with the off-worlder at all.

Even if she isn’t objectively terrible to look at.

He walks Jira home, keeping an eye out for those creatures. He has his blaster at the ready, and he has better reflexes than anyone else he knows, so he’s confident they’ll be safe.

Sure enough, they get to Jira’s house with no problem at all. He helps her unload her things and accepts her offer of a drink.

They don’t really talk about what happened. It’s not the first time either of them have been witness to a murder, though the vanishing into a puff of dust is a new twist. Most of the deaths they’ve seen have been brutal and bodily.

It’s almost a relief to see a death so strange.

He declines Jira’s offer to spend the night on her floor. He has to get home to the farm. His mother expects him to be up early, and he doesn’t want to worry her.

The farm is far enough away that he realises he might not get any sleep at all, but it’s better than the alternative.

He thanks Jira for the drink, wishes her a good night, and leaves.

He left his speeder hidden nearby. He’s halfway there when he’s ambushed. He shoots the assailant before he even so much as looks at them.

But they don’t die.

Or rather – and he doesn’t know why he didn’t notice it before – they weren’t alive to begin with.

It’s not a droid. It’s different from a droid.

Anakin doesn’t know _how,_ but he’s always been able to sense people, and to sense life, too. This creature – whatever it is or was – was dead before it ambushed him.

He’s heard of ancient dark magic that can lead to such things, and while he’s never been a superstitious person, he’s starting to wonder if maybe those rumors had more than a grain of truth to them.

But right now, he has other problems.

Namely the fact that the creature is getting back up. Anakin shoots it again, in the head this time. That seems to send it down.

Someone else approaches – alive this time. Anakin keeps himself at the ready and watches as one of the women – the one with brown hair – comes into the alley.

“Yeesh,” she says. “You shot it in the _eye?”_ She pulls a wooden stick out of her bag and drives it into the creature’s chest. It vanishes into a puff of dust. “Brutal.”

“But stabbing it in the chest with a wooden stick is so much better.”

“It’s a _vampire,_ duh. You kinda _have_ to stake them. Unless you can just summon sunlight on this bizarro world. Wait. _Can_ you summon sunlight?”

Anakin’s never heard the word vampire, but he’s not about to admit to that. “No. And I’m not the one who chose to come to Tatooine.”

“Um, neither did we?” the woman says. “I mean, it’s complicated, but there was, like, this portal thing, and we came out somewhere else, actually, but we were chasing this pack of vampires and – well, we had to follow them from the other planet, I guess, over here.” She rolls her eyes and tosses her hair. “I think they’ve started turning locals, which is super annoying.”

“Right. Well, I’m going to go home now.”

“I thought you already went home?”

“No; I walked my friend home. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Oh- _kay._ Well. I still think we should find Buffy. If you’re from around here, that might actually help us.”

“Not interested,” Anakin says. “I need to go home.”

The woman huffs. “Whatever, I guess. It’s not like I’m going to stop the guy with the laser gun.”

Anakin rolls his eyes, gets on his speeder, and leaves.

It’s nearly sunrise when he gets home, so he has enough time to take a twenty minute nap and use the fresher before his mother expects him at breakfast.

He doesn’t hate Cliegg, really. He knows he’s lucky; Wald is still a slave, and Kitster’s the only one in his entire family who was able to win his freedom. He knows Cliegg didn’t have to free either Anakin or his mother.

He knows Cliegg really loves his mother. That his mother really loves Cliegg.

He mostly just wishes Cliegg would move the hell off of Tatooine and take Shmi with him.

He doesn’t really talk at breakfast, but he does kiss his mother on the cheek and tell Threepio to keep an eye on her while he works.

Really, his whole day is so thoroughly normal that he starts to forget all about the night before.

That is, until the women find the farm.

He’s not aware that they’re even there until he goes to eat dinner (after another trip to the fresher).

He _also_ wishes Cliegg would stop inviting random people in for dinner. He’s too nice.

They’re halfway through dinner when one of the women – the one named Buffy – says, “Actually, we were looking for someone from around here to help us with our… business.”

Anakin almost refuses outright.

“What kind of help are you looking for?” Anakin’s mother asks.

“Well – we thought Anakin could help,” Buffy says.

“I have to help with the harvest,” Anakin says, which isn’t a lie. He is actually supposed to help with the harvest, though he knows Cliegg doesn’t want him to feel like he’s being _ordered_ to do anything. He’s not a slave anymore, and Cliegg and even Owen make that abundantly clear.

Which is why he shouldn’t be surprised when Cliegg says, “Anakin, if you want to go, you can go. We can manage the harvest here.”

“I’ll only go if I can fly the ship,” Anakin says. He knows it’s petulant, but he hopes it’s enough of a dealbreaker that they give up.

“Sure,” Buffy says. “We hired a pilot last time, anyway. Two birds, one stone.”

* * *

His plan, really, is to sneak away. He’s found his own way home from enough planets before; he doesn’t think it’ll be a problem this time.

Aside from tracking down his house (which was probably as simple as asking around in the marketplace), he doesn’t really see any of these women as a threat.

He goes with them to Mos Eisley, boards the ship they’ve purchased (without a pilot, apparently), and asks them where, exactly, they’re going.

“We put a tracker thingie in their ship,” Buffy says. “So we have to follow it.”

“Do you have the receiver? I can’t follow a tracker without the receiver.”

“Sure do.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out the receiver, handing it to Anakin. “The last guy just, like, plugged it in somewhere. Willow’s really the computery person.”

“Hi,” the redheaded woman says, offering her hand to shake. “I’m Willow. I don’t think we’ve actually been introduced.”

After a moment, Anakin shakes her hand. “Anakin.”

“Not that anyone asked, but _I’m_ Cordelia,” the woman from the night before – the one with brown hair – says.

Cordelia is right about one thing: she and her friends definitely aren’t from this galaxy. Either that, or they’re from a world so isolated that they don’t even have _ships._

Anakin knows it’d be too easy to fool them. He can go somewhere busy and crowded and sneak away and leave them.

But, well, he saw them in a fight, and while he had fast reflexes and a blaster, three against one – especially given how happy they seemed to stab people in the chest – is not exactly the smartest move.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t still considering it for later.

It really depends on how this pans out. He knows he’s not sticking around for any creatures to murder him. If that happens, they can handle themselves. He can fly a ship better than most pilots in the galaxy, and he’s not afraid to steal one if the situation calls for it.

He’s definitely not risking his life for this.

He knows he _could have_ said no. He doesn’t _really_ think they’d have murdered his entire family. He doesn’t think anything would have happened beyond them leaving and never seeing him again.

So then why didn’t he?

He wonders if maybe one of them is a Jedi. If they played a mind trick on him.

He doesn’t think that’s the case; Jedi all dress the same, more or less, and he’s never seen a Jedi wear clothes so tight or revealing.

They don’t _talk_ like he’s heard Jedi talk, either. Anakin’s never really had a conversation with a Jedi before, and he’s mostly gotten over his childhood fascination with them, but he feels pretty confident that the women who have convinced him to chauffeur them around the galaxy are _not_ Jedi.

The Sith also use mind tricks, Anakin knows, but he doesn’t think they’re Sith, either.

For one, he doesn’t think Sith would waste time on Tatooine, nor would they stab creatures in the chest with wooden sticks. The Sith have lightsabers, too. None of these women seem to.

Key word: _seem._

But Anakin has a pretty good sense of things, and he doesn’t really sense anything _wrong_ with these women either. Besides the fact that they’re obviously off-worlders and probably not even from the same galaxy.

At the same time, he’s pretty confident they won’t try to kill him.

Which is good enough, right?

* * *

Whatever they’re tracking isn’t following any real pattern, which makes piloting the ship a pain in the ass. 

Buffy takes to sitting in the copilot’s seat. He gets the feeling she’s the leader.

“So what, exactly, are we chasing?” he asks.

“Vampires,” she says. “Cordy told me you had a run in with another one in the last city.”

“If that’s what you call the thing I shot.”

“I’m not really sure shooting them works,” Buffy says. “At least. Not with lasers. If you have a gun that can shoot wooden stakes into their hearts, that’d probably work a lot better.”

“What’s with the wooden sticks, anyway?”

“First of all, they’re _stakes,_ and they kill them. Stakes and sunlight are the only things that, like, _definitely_ kill vampires.”

Anakin’s not sure whether or not to believe this. “So sticking them in the chest with a piece of _wood_ will kill them but a blaster shot to the head _won’t?”_

“Well, stabbing anyone with a stake will kill them, probably. But Cordy said the vamp you got was still, like, _there,_ and not dusted, so I think it’s safe to say the blaster doesn’t kill them. Honestly, I think if we can just get the big guy, the rest will be a piece of cake.”

“I almost hate to ask this, but there aren’t any more… _vampires_ on Tatooine, right?”

“Oh, no,” Buffy says with such confidence he almost believed her. “We dusted them all. Don’t worry. I mean, you might have a Slayer here, too, for all I know, and this is all just a distraction, but none of us really want to take that risk. Besides, they ran off here, so whatever they’re up to, it can’t be good.”

“It looks like they’re heading to a Core World,” Anakin says.

“What’s that mean?”

“More people.” A lot more people. “And law enforcement. It’ll be harder to kill them all on a Core World. But it _should_ also be harder for them to kill anyone else, too.”

Buffy huffs out a laugh. “Trust me, I’m used to law enforcement.”

“Trust me: you haven’t crossed the Jedi.”

“I’m sure I can handle them,” Buffy says with such confidence he wants to believe her.

“I wouldn’t take that bet.”

“Well, what are the Jedi? I mean, what makes them so dangerous? Because I’ve fought demons before, and – well, I guess it really depends on the demon, but I’ve kicked serious demon ass.”

“I’m not sure what a demon is, but Jedi are – well, they can be any species. They’re not a race. They’re Force sensitive beings who harness that connection and are supposed to serve as peacekeepers.”

“What’s ‘Force sensitive’?” Buffy asks.

“You’re kidding me.”

“Um, no.”

He glances over at her. She doesn’t _look_ like she’s trying to pull one over on him. “You really don’t know what the Force is?”

“You mean, like, gravity?”

“No, not like gravity. The _Force._ It’s what binds everything in the universe together. Certain beings are sensitive to the Force; they can sense things the rest of us can’t.”

“Ohh…kay,” Buffy says slowly. “And that’s, like, a _thing_ here? Like, do they sense it with everyone, or just certain things?”

“It’s everything. Jedi hone their Force sensitivity through years of training. They can do feats most people can never even dream of.”

“Try me,” Buffy says.

“What?”

“Try me. I think I’m pretty good at the whole… imagining impossible feats thing.”

Anakin thinks back to all of the things he’s seen Jedi do. “I guess the lightsabers are the first thing you notice.”

“What are those?”

“What are lightsabers?”

“Yeah,” Buffy says.

Anakin’s never had to explain lightsabers to someone before; even in the Outer Rim, everyone has at least _heard_ of lightsabers, even if few have seen them. “They’re swords.”

“Like, stabby metal swords?”

“Not really. The hilt is metal, but the blade is plasma. They’re powered by kyber crystals. Some people will tell you only Jedi can use them, but I have it on good authority that that’s not true.”

“Whose authority?”

“What?”

“You said you have it on good authority. So whose authority is it?”

“My own,” Anakin says.

“So can you use one of them?”

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I’ve never tried. But I’ve seen people who are _definitely_ not Jedi – even if they _are_ Force-sensitive – use them.”

“You think I could?”

“Not if you’re not Force-sensitive.”

“Oh,” Buffy says. She doesn’t say anything else for a minute or so. Then… “Well, I trust you’re following the tracker thingie, so I’m going to go make sure we have enough weapons to take them down.”

He doesn’t bother saying goodbye; he knows she’ll just be back to bother him soon enough.

* * *

Buffy isn’t the one who comes to bother him next; it’s the redhead, Willow.

“Hi,” she says, sitting down in the seat that’s supposed to be for the copilot. Well, if they had one. Which they don’t.

“Hi,” he says. He doesn’t know what she’s doing here, but he can’t imagine it’s _great._

“So. You seem to know a lot about what’s going on here.”

“Apparently.” 

“Oh. Cool. Um, so – I’ve been trying to figure some things out.”

“Trying to figure _what_ out? Listen, I don’t even know why I’m piloting for you, much less what the whole _plan_ here is supposed to be.”

“Oh, no, I don’t mean like that,” Willow says.

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean, you have, like, robots and stuff! And the technology just seems really advanced, even though, like, the last planet – I mean, _planet!_ Hello? That’s so cool! – didn’t have any kind of advanced architecture or anything, but still – robots! And spaceships!”

“Let me get this straight,” Anakin says.

“Okay.”

“When you say _robot,_ you mean droids?”

“I guess so. The metal guys. I mean, they aren’t, like, their own species or anything, are they?”

“No. They’re droids.”

“Then yeah. Droids. And spaceships.”

And here Anakin thought this entire trip would be miserable. “I can tell you about droids and ships. I’ve built both.”

“You’ve _built_ them? Yourself?”

Anakin feels a small rush of pride. “Yeah. The droid back home – Threepio, with the grey chassis. He’s a protocol droid I rebuilt from spare parts to help take care of my mom.” He doesn’t dare tell her he was a slave. It’s none of her business, and he doesn’t fully trust her. But anyone with a brain can figure out how to put together a droid; it’s not secret knowledge, and it won’t come back to bite him in the ass, so this much, he thinks, is safe.

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Willow says. “I tried to build my own computer once – I mean, I did do it. But our technology where we’re from isn’t anywhere _close_ to that level.”

“Mouse droids are pretty easy,” Anakin says. “For beginners.”

* * *

When the tracker stops moving, Anakin knows he _should_ be relieved. But he’s not. They’re nearing Alderaan – far as hell away from Tatooine.

He knows these things they’re chasing are deadly.

He also knows there are probably Jedi on Alderaan. If there aren’t now, they’ll get there as soon as these things start killing people. Core Worlds rely too much on Jedi intervention.

He manages to dock at a spaceport, and tries to blend in. With the group he’s with, he quickly realises that’s impossible. None of the women want to blend in.

He tries not to feel shabby in his Tatooinian clothes as they walk through the port city in Alderaan.

It’s so _green._ Sometimes he forgets how _pretty_ some of the Core Worlds are. There’s no sand, either, at least not that he can see. That’s a plus.

It _is_ cold, though.

It’s Cordelia who voices that concern. “Ugh, I’m _freezing._ Couldn’t they have picked somewhere, I dunno, _tropical?”_

“Do you know if there are any coats on the ship?” Anakin asks.

Buffy shoots them both a look to shut them up and then exchanges a glance with Willow. Despite not knowing her that well or that long, Anakin can read it clear as day: _Oh no, there’s two of them._

He’s about to make a defensive retort when Willow tosses him a jacket. “Stop being a baby and put this on.”

He doesn’t ask where she got it; he just puts it on. A glance at Cordelia confirms that she now has a jacket, too. Good.

He supposes, really, Alderaan isn’t _cold._ It’s just colder than Tatooine, where he’s been for far too long.

He’s much more comfortable in the jacket as they make their way through the market, but then – “Get back,” he says, pulling them out of the way.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Cordelia snaps.

“Jedi,” Anakin says.

He has mixed feelings on the Jedi, but he knows better than most people that it doesn’t do to draw attention to yourself in front of Jedi (even if it’s just by dressing like _obvious_ off-worlders) when you’re about to – well, he’s not completely sure what they’re doing yet. Killing the creatures, apparently.

The Jedi is a human, average height, reddish hair, and a beard. Next to him is a Togruta with the telltale Padawan braid. Great. Two of them. He pretends to be overly invested in some produce, though he knows that the Jedi (and maybe the Padawan too) can sense the disturbance in the Force brought on by their presence.

His only hope is that they blend in _just_ enough.

They walk by without even noticing him, but he waits until he’s sure they’re long gone to breathe a sigh of relief.

“What was that all about?” Cordelia asks.

“If the Jedi know we’re here… trust me, it won’t end well.”

Buffy doesn’t comment on that; from what he’s told her, he’s pretty sure she gets the idea. Despite the way she talks, Anakin doesn’t think for a second that she’s not smart. He knows better than that. “Let’s just figure out where these vamps are hiding so we can dust ‘em,” she says.

It doesn’t really occur to him to stay on the ship.

They split up into teams – Anakin and Buffy, and Willow and Cordelia. He’s too relieved that he’s _not_ with Cordelia to be too annoyed that he’s with Buffy instead of Willow.

He lets Buffy do most of the talking. From what he’s gathered, these things aren’t much of a threat until after dark. He doesn’t know much about Alderaan’s nights, but he knows they _have_ them.

No one has seen anything suspicious yet, so they decide it’s probably time to meet Willow and Cordelia and discuss an action plan.

Well, Buffy decides. Anakin wonders, again, how he got roped into this.

The four of them have lunch together while Buffy leads the discussion. It’s not that she doesn’t listen to everyone else; she does, but she’s the clear leader. Her decision is the final one.

He can’t say he’s surprised when she decides to head back to the ship until nightfall.

He’s less surprised that he’s appointed to trash disposal duty.

Anakin’s halfway to the waste bin when he realises something is wrong. He’s careful not to draw any attention to himself, but he does take hold of his blaster.

It’s the Padawan who approaches him. Like all of the Jedi he’s ever heard of, she speaks in Basic. “Hello there.”

“Hello,” he says brusquely.

“You don’t seem like you’re from around here.”

“Neither do you.” He doesn’t ask what she’s even doing on Alderaan. He knows that’s a bad move.

He’s good in a fight, and he’s _pretty_ sure Buffy and her friends would back him up, but he doesn’t think even the four of them can take a Jedi Knight and a Padawan on.

Not without serious injury, and not without having to leave the planet without taking care of the vampires.

“Where are you from?”

“Not Shili, that’s for sure,” he says.

He sees her reach for her lightsaber. Shit.

“Tatooine,” he says then.

“That’s way in the Outer Rim. What are you doing here?”

“My – uh, wife and I – we’re considering relocating. I wasn’t aware there were regulations against Tatooinians moving to Alderaan.”

“Your _wife,_ huh?”

“That’s right,” he says. He just hopes _one_ of the women will play along if needed.

“Well, there’s no law against that.”

“Like I said.”

She gives him a long, hard look. She’s almost as tall as he is. He doesn’t break eye contact or flinch.

“All right,” she says. “Fine. Have a nice day, Mr. …?”

“Lars,” Anakin says. He never took Cliegg’s name, but he hardly thinks Cliegg will mind him using it in this case.

“Mr. Lars, then. Have a nice day.”

* * *

Anakin feels like he doesn’t breathe freely again until he gets back on the ship.

“What’s gotten into you?” Willow asks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost – do they have ghosts here?”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Anakin says. “I ran into that Jedi’s Padawan. They know we’re up to something. I had to tell them my wife and I were trying to relocate.”

“Your  _ wife, _ huh?” Buffy asks.

Anakin shrugs. “I couldn’t exactly tell her the truth. Trust me – the Jedi find out that these things are loose on a Core World, and none of us are ever going home.”

“Sheesh, depressing much?” Cordelia says.

“Listen – I know how things work here better than any of you. They’re going to be watching us. We need to be extra careful.”

“Okay,” Buffy says. “No problem. We can be careful. I guess it’d probably help if we dressed like everyone else.”

“I’m not going back out there,” Anakin says. “They’re already watching  _ me.” _

“Cordy and I can do it,” Willow says.

“Okay,” Buffy says. “I guess Anakin and I can spar while you guys are gone.”

“What?” Anakin asks.

“Well, you can’t kill vampires with that laser gun, so unless you’re going to hide out in the ship the whole time, I should probably teach you how to stake one.”

It makes sense.

“Besides, you look like you catch on quick.”

“Buttering me up is  _ not _ going to work,” he says.

“We’ll see.”

It turns out to be relatively easy and intuitive to learn how to stake a vampire. Of course, they don’t have any  _ actual _ vampires to practise on in the ship, and he’s careful not to stab Buffy while they work. He’s always been pretty good in a fight; it shouldn’t be surprising that he figures this out quickly, too.

They’re still practising when Willow and Cordelia get back on the ship with clothes.

“You two look cozy,” Willow says.

“Did you get the clothes, Wil?”

Willow holds up a cloth bundle. “Right here. I guess we should probably get changed.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Buffy says.

“In that case, I’m going to use the fresher,” Anakin says. He leaves without waiting for another word.

He’s not really sure how the night is going to go. The Jedi have an eye on them, and Alderaanian clothes won’t fool the Jedi. He knows that much.

But he’s always wanted an adventure, and this is way more exciting – way more  _ involved  _ – than anything he’s done before.

Besides, he’d be lying if he said that Buffy Summers wasn’t fascinating.


End file.
